Soma Bytes
by Bitter November
Summary: Bits and pieces of SoMa, ranging from sweet to kinky. Word challenge in partnership with GlitterGoat
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is what happens when Goat and I get together. Utter madness. This will be an ongoing series, and some parts may show up in full length fics, especially if I get reviews telling me what you would like to see! Once again, I don't own anything.**

BOTANICAL LOTION

Maka eyed the ruler critically. Just as she had suspected, the contents of the bottle had gone down. This had been going on for a while, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. Her mother had sent her a bottle of expensive botanical lotion, mango-coconut-guava scented. It was a wonderful indulgence that made her feel smooth and sexy, and she used it very sparingly. Over time, she had noticed it being depleted in minute increments. At first she had suspected Blair, but the frisky feline was allergic to coconut, so that let her out. That left Soul, which was a laughable suggestion. There was no way her self proclaimed 'cool' weapon would use such a feminine product. But the fact was inescapable that the lotion was being used by someone other than herself. And it had gone down just now, after Soul had been in the bathroom. He had been in there awhile, but not long enough to fully lotion up his body...her eyes widened as the gears of her mind clicked into place. That little...

She stomped into the living room, shoving her face into her surprised partner's, who let out a yelp.

"After using all the good lotion, you had better have the most amazingly silky and supple cock in the world," she growled, "Because if you don't, you're gonna be in a world of hurt."

And with that threat/proclamation, she pulled him into her room to test it out.

EYE DROPS

Bets. They were usually Black*Star's area of expertise. But this time he had miscalculated; challenging Soul and Maka to a game of laser tag while Tsubaki, Liz, and Patty had gone to shop for Maka's birthday present. He had teamed up with Kid, expecting to win with ease.

Two hours later, he stared at his friends' leering faces in disbelief. They had totally owned his ass. He waited with Kid stoically for their punishment, his eyes growing wider and wider with every word from Maka's mouth. He wanted to bolt, but gods didn't welsch on bets. With resignation, he followed Soul and Maka to their apartment, where everything was conveniently prepared.

Soul grinned at Maka, standing in the hallway outside his room.

"This is gonna be great," he snickered with fiendish delight, "I can't believe you came up with such a cool idea."

"The benefits of having a giant brain." she replied, clutching the camera. Shouts and curses erupted from the room, and Soul threw open the door.

There was Kid and Black*Star, both in frilly women's clothing, right down to the lace panties. Kid was on his back with his skirts hiked to his waist, his hands on Black*Star's biceps. The other boy was straddling the Shinigami, one hand on Kid's jaw, the other on his chest. They both stopped in mid-scream to look up at Soul and Maka, who stood slack jawed in the doorway. Slowly, Soul closed the door, and turned to Maka.

"We're gonna need eye drops. Gallons of them."

CABLE

Soul sat on the couch mournfully. He had a problem and he had no one he could share it with. After a freak electrical storm two days ago, they had lost their cable. Now it was Thursday and he was missing particular porn that he had been looking forward to watching for weeks. He saw Maka come in out of the corner of his eye, but paid little attention. There would be no help from that corner. She stood before him and leaned forward, giving him a welcome view down the front of her shirt. With a strangely naughty smile, she spoke in a seductive voice.

"I heard you're missing a movie."

He gulped as something cold and metallic snapped around his wrist.

"Why don't we make our own?"

BOTTLE

It was trite.  
It was cliché.  
It was also a fucking bad idea, Soul thought as the empty bottle in the center of the group slowly spun to a stop.

It had been Patty's idea to liven up the party, and Soul had been surprised with how willingly everyone went along with it. He had thought Maka would be the voice of reason, but noooo, for once she had decided to follow the stupid whims of the crowd. He had sat down sulkily in between Black*Star and Patty, concocting various ways to interrupt the game when it got to his turn. There was only one person in this room he had any interest of locking lips with and the odds were not in his favor. And who had been selected to go first? Maka, of course. He watched as her cheeks flushed pink, delicate fingers taking the green glass bottle by its neck and giving it a spin.

Bright red eyes followed its every movement, inwardly chanting as the party game from hell slowed down.

Stop on me.  
Stop on me.  
STOP ON ME, DAMMIT!

But the gods either weren't listening or were too busy laughing at his expense. It halted just out of his range, falling into the area designated for Kid. Miserably, he looked up at Maka's stricken face. She didn't look too thrilled either. Fuck this. The weapon always protected the meister, right? He slammed his fist into the floor, causing the bottle to turn that fractional amount in his direction. She beamed at him, and he had to smile in return. He'd tell her what the price of his rescue was later when they got home...

FLAG

Cackling madly, two figures darted across the schoolyard, each clutching a pile of something to their chests. Soul hated to admit it, but sometimes Black*Star had the best ideas. He knew he was going to be in so much trouble later, but the temptation had been too delicious to pass up. Following the blue haired ninja to the flagpole, they set to work, silent but for the occasional snicker. It didn't take long and soon they were done. All that was left was to wait for their prey.

Ten minutes later, Maka strode up the stairs, her eyes narrowing in utter fury as she witnessed every pair of panties and bras she owned waving from the pole like a pretty pastel flag of nations. She spun to the co-conspirators, marching over to them to deliver justice. Or so they thought.

"I won't do anything now, but somewhere, somehow, I WILL get my revenge." Maka vowed.

"So you're wearing it, right? The red thong we left for ya?" asked Black*Star mirthfully.

"No, she hissed, preparing to slide by them. "I'm wearing the only other option you left me with."

The boys watched as she entered the school, then looked at each other in confusion.

"Dude, I thought we got them all. Did you leave another pair behind?"

"Nope. Those were the only ones. She was left with those or...nothing...at...all..."

Black*Star dragged his unconscious friend into the nurses office, aware of two things; One, Soul really needed to get this whole nosebleed thing under control, and two, there was no way in hell that he was cleaning that mess off the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok everyone, bear with me. This is the first time ive posted for myself, so thinks might be a little off. Sebastian's Cat, your word will be in the next chapter, and anyone else is welcome to submit words for me to use!

ICE

She had wrapped her heart in ice like one would wrap a fragile package in bubble wrap. That had been one of the first things he had learned about her. Oh, she was kind and caring enough, always there for a friend, hell, sometimes for an enemy. But there was always that careful distance she kept between herself and others, that part of her that she shared with no one else. it had made resonating difficult in the beginning, until she got the hang of letting him in just as far as was necessary without letting him get too close. He watched that heart, watched it closely as it hung suspended in its frigid cage. for a crack that didn't appear.

Six years later, she walks across the living room, plops down on the couch beside him as he flicks through the channels. He stops to look at her, lips pulling into a smirk as he leans down for a kiss that she enthusiastically returns. She should have put walls up instead of ice if she had wanted her heart to remain untouched. Because that was ices' weakness.

It melted if you just turned up the heat.

BARK

They argued. A lot. No, really. Bickering was an almost daily habit, from who washed the breakfast dishes in the morning to who got to brush their teeth first at night. That wasn't to say that they fought; 'fight' was too strong of a word for what they did. Most of the time. Every so often they just needed to let off some steam, and that usually came in the form of standing nose to nose in the middle of whatever room they were in, neither one giving an inch or a decibel in their verbal volley. Recently, another element had been added to the mix; sexual tension. Not that the tension was anything new, just that it had never really been a component of their shouting matches.

"DAMN IT MAKA! WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO FREAKIN' STUBBORN ALL THE TIME!"

"MAYBE IF YOU WEREN'T SO LAZY, I WOULDN'T HAVE TO GET ON YOUR CASE SO MUCH!"

"YOU'RE ALWAYS BITCHIN' AND COMLAININ'!"

"AND YOU'RE ALWAYS BARKING LIKE A LITTLE YAPPY MUTT THAT THINKS IT'S A BIG DOG!"

Red eyes glared into green, chests heaving and panting from the yelling. Suddenly, he smirked, pushing her into the wall as his mouth latched onto her neck, teeth biting into the pale, smooth skin.

"So whaddya say? Wanna find out if my bite's worse than my bark?"

HAIR

Her hair was ash blond, hanging pale and straight down her shoulders. Shiny and sleek, it was usually kept done up in what had come to be trademark pigtails, even if, as some pig headed morons said, that they made her look eight years old. Sometimes, when she wasn't busy ridding the world of monsters or cramming knowledge into her head at an alarming rate at school, she would let it out of the constricting elastics, and at those times it had a softer and more mature look that Soul liked.

HIs hair was stark white, a genetic anomaly that some found freakish, asking if he was nineteen or ninety. Thick and unruly, he had long since given up on trying to get it to conform to the cleancut standards of others. His style of choice was to pull what he could back in a headband, although that just resulted in the thick spiky chunks sitting higher on his head rather than hanging low on his neck. Sometimes, when he wasn't out doing his duty as a badass weapon or sleeping away hours of boring class time, he went without the headband, letting his hair fall into his face in a way that Maka liked, wanting to run her fingers through the unkempt looking mess.

But the way they loved their hair the most was when it was entwined on the same pillow, the strands mingling and tangling together, her blond and his white, merging to make its own unique color and style.

PRINTER

Soul, being a cool, laid back dude, (aka lazy), hated running errands. He especially hated running school related errands. If he was going to put his effort into something, he wanted it to be something that would benefit him. Being partnered up with Maka Alnerd meant that he was stuck tagging along with her all over the school, from one end to the other, on a never ending quest of I'm-Not-Being-Paid-To -Do-This-Shit. That was how they wound up in the basement, after his big mouthed meister volunteered them to print off some flyers. Standing next to Maka as she fiddled with the buttons on the plastic and metal hunk of prehistoric technology, an idea struck him on how to make this trip into something worth the effort. Maka noticed the smile that spread like cheap butter across his face.

"Soul, whatever you're thinking, no. Just. No."

"Aw, c'mon, it's not that bad! At least hear me out!"

Maka adjusted the stack of paper, then turned to lean against the wall with her arms crossed, signalling that he had her attention.

"You know how everyone takes dick pics with their phone cameras?"

"Yeeess" she hissed, remembering the incident that had led to her deleting Black*Star's name from her phone permanently.

"Well, that's just a new take on an old joke. Behold, the grandfather of the dick pic; the butt scan!"

Maka rubbed the bridge off her nose. "So you're saying you want to drop your pants and smack your butt up here for it to be copied? So you can go around flashing that to people?"

"Learn to live a little, bookworm. You don't even have to watch. Just turn around and I'll tell you when I'm done."

Without waiting for a response, he unbuckled his pants, letting them along with his boxers drop to the floor. Maka was left to stare at two handfuls of the finest specimen of male ass she had ever seen. A tingling feeling pooled in her lower stomach, her panties growing damp as she rubbed her thighs together. What was it he had said? Live a little? Alrighty then.

Soul felt two arms snake around his waist, hands reaching between his legs to grasp him firmly."Hey Soul? Lemme check your cartridge."

DIRT

The life of a weapon/meister team was a hard one, not for the weak-willed or faint of heart. At least, it wasn't if you did your job right. Maka and Soul did, taking their training more seriously than most after all they had been were of the opinion that you could never be too prepared, that it was always best to keep your skills fresh and sharp. They never missed a training session, as was made evident by the ease with which they pulled off high level missions. Everyone admired their dedication, and it wasn't unusual to see them out on the training grounds late into the night. It also wasn't unusual to see them sweat soaked and covered in dirt from their efforts.

That was why, when Sid spotted them stagger out from the trees, bodies braced against each other, covered from head to toe in dirt and leaves sticking out of their hair, he wasn't concerned. "Hey you two! looks like you had a rough training session! Better head inside and get cleaned up!" and with a smile and a wave he had walked off, leaving a confused weapon and a heavily blushing meister behind him.

Soul turned to Maka, frowning. "You mean we were scheduled to train today?"

She adjusted her skirt, making sure it wasn't still hiked up. "Shaddup, Soul."

GENDER

They stood in the parking lot, the object of their heated debate between them. The sleek orange motorcycle sat catching the last rays of the setting sun, an innocent looking enough scene, no one would ever guess that it would be such a bone of contention for the two that had been riding it for years. It had started with an innocent slip of the tongue, when Soul mentioned that Francine needed to have her brakes checked. Maka had peered at him suspiciously, asking, in a hurt voice, who the hell Francine was. Soul's cheeks had darkened to the color of his eyes. His secret out, he muttered that he had always thought of the bike as Francine.

"Soul, don't be silly!" she had giggled, continuing before he could retort that a lot of guys named their bikes. "That's no way to talk about Marcus!"

"...What. Did you just call my sweet girl Marcus?"

"He's always been Marcus to me. Anyone can see that this is a boy bike."

"You're off your nut if you can't see that this is a lady."

"Boy."

"Girl."

"Boy!"

"Girl!"

"BOY!"

"GIRL!"

"Soul, this bike is obviously a male! Check under the hood if you don't believe me!"

"...THERE'S NOT A HOOD TO CHECK UNDER! AND I STILL SAY IT'S A GIRL!"

"No need to yell, it was just an expression! How are we going to decide what to call it if we can't even agree on its gender?"

Soul dragged a hand through his hair in frustration. "Who knows. I don't even know how to deal with this anymore."

Their eyes met as a look of understanding passed, both knowing exactly what to call the bike. They smiled, speaking in unison.

"Crona!


	3. Chapter 3

This chapter is made up of words given to me by Katlizibeth. If you haven't read her fic Planes, Trains, and Plantains, you should give it a shot! The last two words were given to me by reviewers; Books, from awwwsnapTOP, and Accident, from Sebastian's Kat. Hope I didn't disappoint with the way I chose to use them. More requests are welcome, and please remember to review!

SPOON

It was one of those nights where they barely managed to drag themselves back into the apartment after an exhausting battle. Turns for the bathroom were negotiated in grunts as they sluggishly went about preparing for bed, clothing tossed haphazardly all over the floor. Soul crawled into bed, leaving space for Maka to lay next to him, so he could spoon up behind her, but instead of settling into her usual place, she slid over him to his other side, reversing their positions.

"Hey, what's the deal? I'm always the big spoon!" he whined.

Maka buried her face deeper into his back. "Soul, I'm tired. If we try to sleep like that, you know what'll happen. You'll get horny, you will then proceed to make _me_ horny, and all chances of getting any kind of rest go up in smoke."

"..." he could not argue with this. He could, but it would be lying, and he was too sleepy to deal with that right now. So, with less than good grace, he adjusted his pillow and closed his eyes, already half asleep.

Unfortunately for Maka, her mind had already wandered down a dangerous trail. A happy trail, to be precise, and her hand, through no fault of her own, had gone along for the ride.

Soul's eyes shot open as a hand dipped below his waistband to wrap around his cock, jerking it gently. He might have been able to lay there and just enjoy the excellent service, but a slim leg was draped over him, and something warm and suspiciously damp began to rub against him.

Maka was snapped out of her plan to get them both off quickly and quietly when he suddenly rolled over, flipping her beneath him, leering wickedly.

"You know, no matter how you arrange the silverware, spooning _always_ leads to forking!"

TEETH

They hadn't been dating long when Maka noticed a change in Soul's behaviour. He began to smile less and less, and the rare times he did, they were tight, closemouthed shadows of his customary wide grin. In fact, he kept his face averted from her most of the time, especially when they were out somewhere. Growing uncomfortable with his distant actions, she decided to confront him.

"Soul? Is something wrong? Have I done something to upset you?" she asked, curling closer to him on the couch.

He darted a look out of the corner of his eye, to find her staring at him intently, an expression of worry marring her features.

"Everything's fine. Why you ask?"

"Don't give me that! You hardly look at me, and you never smile anymore. I want to know what's bothering you!"

"...It's nothin'." he answered in a monotone, turning his body farther away from her.

Growing frustrated, she climbed onto his lap, clamping a hand on each side of his face to force him to look at her.

"Don't lie to me! Tell me what's going on! Or...or are you acting like this because you want to break up..." she trailed off sadly, beginning to slide off his lap.

He grabbed her hips, holding her in place.

"No! Hell no! That's not it at all!" he said in a panic, trying to head her off before he found himself back in the singles category.

She stopped trying to move away, but was still a bit uneasy. "Then tell me, or I'm just going to keep imagining the worst."

"Fine! Gaah, this is so stupid." he threw his head back against the cushions. "It's...my teeth, okay?"

Maka cocked her head first to the left, and then to the right, as if adjusting her reception would help her understand his words.

"Your teeth? What about them? Do they hurt or something?"

Soul sighed. Her confusion would be cute if the situation wasn't so ridiculous. "Don't tell me you haven't heard what people say everytime we go out on a date."

"I have no idea. But then, I'm usually focusing on you when we're out, and not what a bunch of strangers are saying. You'll have to enlighten me."

"They all stare when they realize we're together. They struggle enough with the white hair and freaky red eyes, but when they see the teeth..." he growled, a mixture of frustration and annoyance. "They say that a sweet, innocent girl like you shouldn't be with a monster like me." he finished dejectedly.

Maka let out a short laugh, confusing him. "And you listen to these people? I'm surprised you didn't bust a gut laughing after hearing me described as sweet and innocent!"

His lips twitched up at the corners as he tightened his grip on her hips. "Well, when you put it that way..."

She knocked her forehead against his. "Idiot. I like your teeth." her lips brushed over his, her tongue sliding out to part his lips. She traced the sharp contours of his teeth slowly and carefully, paying special attention to each one as he moaned in her mouth. Pulling away, she trailed kisses to his ear and bit down on the lobe, and he reciprocated by nibbling her neck, as she knew he would.

"I love your teeth on my neck." she whispered, flicking the shell of her ear with her tongue.

He leaned back to look at her, a wide grin breaking across his face for the first time in weeks.

"Let's see where else you like my teeth."

As Maka tackled him to the couch, he decided maybe there were perks to having monster teeth after all.

UMBRELLA

Soul sat on the ground, slouched against a column of the school. After years of being pursued by excited fangirls, he had finally broken down and decided to give one of them a shot. To be honest, he had never ventured into the romance department, but as he got older, he had begun to feel a desire for a relationship. So he had said yes, put on his best leather jacket, and made some sort of effort to tame his hair. But when she had met him after class to go out for coffee, he hadn't been able to go through with it. Something just hadn't felt right, and he had turned her down, feeling slightly guilty at the sight of her tears.

Now he was sitting there as it began to sprinkle, a chilly breeze cutting through the air. Mentally, he kicked himself. Why hadn't he just gone on the stupid date? How was he going to know who was the right girl for him if he didn't even give them a chance? All he wanted was a relatively nice girl, someone fun to be with, that he could talk to and count on, someone that cared about him- Suddenly, a shadow fell over him, and he could no longer feel the droplets of rain pelting on the back of his neck.

"Soul? What are you doing here? You're going to catch a cold if you don't get out of the rain!"

He looked up into the worried face of his meister, her large green eyes filled with concern.

_Oh. That's what_ _had been_ _wrong_.

He stood and began to walk beside her, having to stay close because it was one of those dinky single person umbrellas.

"I figured you'd have gone home by now. What are you still doing here?" he asked casually, watching her cheeks flush out of the corner of his eye.

"I...um, had some stuff to do. I just happened to see you sitting there as I was leaving. I thought you had a date today?"

Fighting back a smile at her poor attempt at lying, he answered her question.

"I did, but I saw that she wasn't gonna work out, so I ended up not goin' after all."

Her voice was slow as she processed this. "I'm really sorry, Soul. What was it about her that made you think it wouldn't work?"

Under the genuine sympathy, he heard the tiny traces of relief, and he became more sure of himself. "Well, there were actually a lot of things that made it obvious she wasn't the right choice for me. I mean, she didn't have green eyes, or nice legs under stupidly short skirts. She would never wear her hair in pigtails," he heard her gasp, but continued, "And if I asked her to hit me over the head with a book, she'd probably think I was some kinda perverted masochist or somethin'. So I'm just gonna wait till I find a girl that can meet those requirements."

"Requirements, huh? She has to have all that?" she asked with a silly grin growing on her face.

"Yep. Those are ironclad, nonnegotiable, absolutely must have traits. Think you could hook me up with someone like that?" he asked, sneakily sliding one arm around her waist, pulling her closer as they walked down the nearly empty street.

"I think that could be arranged. I'm sure she'd say yes if you bought her a large pumpkin frappe." she smiled teasingly up at him.

"Like you can get at the place two streets over? Sounds pretty reasonable." he played along, steering her in the opposite direction from home.

"Soul? Where are we going?"

"Gonna buy my girlfriend some weird flavored coffee. You like it with extra whipped cream, right?"

"Yeah. And an extra straw so you can get some too."

"Don't worry about me. I definitely plan on gettin' some."

There was a pause, and the sound of a book meeting skull, and then the bright red umbrella bobbed around the corner, carrying the laughing couple out of sight.

ORIGAMI

They started out as a simple, plain piece of paper, future spread out before them to be written on the surface. Time and experience changed them, bent and folded them, their shape growing and reforming into something new, yet not new, with each shared moment. Flesh and bone, sliding together with perfect rhythm and harmony, falling seamlessly into perfect sync. No longer a single sheet a of paper, they were a beautiful new form altogether. They were origami.

PEARL

Sitting on the couch with his girlfriend in his lap, Soul felt his mind wander from the tear inducing Discovery channel special on pearls that she seemed to be engrossed in. Why they were doing this on one of their few days off, when there were more..._pleasurable_ things they could be doing was beyond him. But he knew from hard experience that once Maka got hooked on a subject, there was no distracting her from it. Unless, perhaps, he could use it to his advantage...

Maka paid no attention to the hand that slowly glided up her thigh, tickling the skin hidden under her skirt. She didn't even notice that her legs had parted, giving that hand access to the target it was seeking. Her attention was rudely yanked from her program by a skilled set of fingers sliding into her panties, going unerringly for her clit. She gasped as he teased her, dancing around it with light strokes before rubbing it firmly.

"Soul, what ah! Are you dooOOOoing?" she moaned, not sure whether to wiggle away from him or to abandon herself to his ministrations.

He sucked and licked at the tender spot at the base of her neck that he knew drove her crazy, as her hips began to buck harder into his hand.

"I'm just doin' like the guy on tv said, and checkin' the oyster to see if there's a pearl. Think I found one." he crooned, enjoying her strangled gasps and cries.

"So are you done watchin' yet?" he asked with hopeful eagerness.

"Actually, I think you should watch the next part, since you're getting so much inspiration out of this." she panted, her bangs growing damp with sweat.

His hopes nearly fell before she continued, "The next segment is about pearl diving."

BOOK

She gazed at him surreptitiously over the top of her novel, watching the way the light from the tv played over him in a soft blue glow. She had known him for years, boy to man, and could now read him as easily as she did the book she held. His face might as well have been paper, his features lines and swirls of ink forming the words of his moods. She could tell right now that he was tired, only half watching whatever was playing on the screen, the other half of his mind thinking over something carefully. She knew this by the way his body was relaxed, legs propped on the table and head tilted to the side, the tiny crease between his eyes the only indication that he wasn't one step away from falling asleep. Almost, she wished she could read his thoughts as easily, but the practical part of her knew there were probably things better left unknown. Sadly, she knew he most likely couldn't read her the same way. He surely didn't notice the way she was always watching, waiting, hoping for the smallest sign of...well, it was best not to dwell on things that were never going to happen. She let out a small sound of surprise as an arm was flung around her, drawing her halfway into his lap, the book falling forgotten from her hands.

"Quit thinkin' stupid things and get over here where you belong, woman."

"Where I belong, huh?" she asked, carefully watching his expression, and deciding she liked what she was seeing there.

"You heard me. This is what you wanted too, right?" his voice a mix of affection and hope.

She snuggled into him as an answer, arranging their limbs to their mutual satisfaction, a small smile on her face. Maybe he wasn't so illiterate after all.

ACCIDENT

Maka could feel the strands of her last nerve fraying like the fibers of a rotted rope. What had been rather cute at first was now leaning decidedly in the favor of annoying. A week ago, they had gone on a mission that had proved more dangerous than anticipated, and if it hadn't been for blind luck in the form of a tree root causing her to trip at precisely the right moment, Maka would have been sliced in two. She even had the long, shallow healing scar to prove it. For some reason, this had scared Soul half to death, and he had taken to following her everywhere like a baby bird imprinting on its mother.

A trip to the store? He was there. Lunch out with the girls? He was at the next table. She was almost afraid to lift the toilet lid for fear he would pop up there, too. She tried to tell herself to get over it, that he would get tired of constantly being with her. A darker part of herself knew that she wouldn't mind as much if he would _just make a damn move already_, but he seemed content with remaining the perfect gentleman, much to the growing frustration of her lady bits. It was hard to take care of business when another person always seemed to be less than three feet away. No motor was _that_ discreet. Now she was headed for the washing machine, and, as usual, he was no more than a handful of footsteps behind her.

"Soul, I'm perfectly capable of doing the laundry, damn it! Why don't you go watch tv, or better yet, go hang out with Black*Star?" she growled in frustration, quickening her pace as if that would actually do any good.

"Are you tryin' to get rid of me? Geez, Maka, all I'm tryin' to do is-"

She would never know what it was he had been trying to do, for in his haste, he hadn't picked his foot up enough as they crossed the threshold to the laundry room, and his toe caught the slight rise, sending him sprawling forward, hands grasping for anything to break his fall. Maka had turned at the sound of his inadvertent cry, and his fingers found purchase on the only thing available; the waistband of her shorts, pulling them along with the pink and white polka dotted panties down around her ankles as he fell.

The first thing he saw when he looked up where short, soft curls trimmed into a perfect landing strip, just begging him to touch down as soon as he was cleared to land. He forcibly yanked his eyes higher to her shocked face, survival instinct kicking in and momentarily overriding lust.

"I didn't! I mean...This wasn't...It was an accident, I swear!" he spluttered in a panic, certain she was going to crush him with the entire set of Encyclopedia Britannica for his spectacularly glorious final sin.

Instead she crouched in front of him, and it was a mighty struggle to keep his eyes fixed north of her neck.

"If this was an accident, I'd love to see what you could do on purpose." she said huskily.

Soul was many kinds of fool, but even he could recognize the flags signalling it was safe to extend his landing gear. If this was the typical result, he was _definitely_ going to become more accident prone in the future.


	4. Chapter 4

I'm back! I lost the notes with my prompts, so sorry if they aren't in order. I'll be working on the others, and I always accept more! New chapters will be squeezed in between my regular fics.

PURPLE

Soul had his back to the wall, ready to accept the death blow that was certainly coming. It was inevitable, really, with the look his girlfriend was giving him as she held up the tiny scrap of purple material that masqueraded as a pair of panties.

Panties that she had found shoved in the back of a drawer that she had been cleaning out.

Panties that were not hers.

"Explain. Now." she growled, causing Soul to shiver. She sounded downright dangerous.

He knew he should have gotten rid of them, but they had been so damn expensive, his inner cheapskate just wouldn't let him, insisting that he could find another use for them.

Sure. 101 Ways to Repurpose Sexy Underwear.

"I know what this looks like, but put the pitchfork down for a second, okay? Those are actually yours, so there's no reason for you to get upset!" he spoke quickly, knowing his time on earth was short if he couldn't make her believe him.

"Like hell they are! God, Soul, I think I can recognize my own underwear! And these most definitely aren't mine! What's more, they're purple! I would never, ever wear purple panties, but there's someone around here who does!"

This wasn't good. He saw her lower lip start to quiver, the purple lace hanging between them accusingly.

"I didn't know that when I bought them! How do you think I felt after spendin' so much on so little, only to hear you say you hate purple underwear? And I'd already removed the tags, so I couldn't even exchange them!"

The fire died in Maka's eyes, to be replaced by confused curiosity. "You bought them...for me? But this isn't one of the colors you usually would pick..."

Soul rubbed his neck, blushing as he muttered, "I know, but I thought they would look really hot with that huge purple sweater that you wear, and next thing I knew, I had paid for it."

She digested that for a few seconds, then nodded briskly, turning on her heel to leave the room.

"Hey, wait! Where are you goin'?" Soul panicked. Damn it, why hadn't he just cleaned his own stuff instead of being a lazy ass until Maka did it for him?

Maka looked over her shoulder with a wicked smirk that had him shivering for another reason. He knew that look, and liked it.

"I'm going to go put on my sweater, of course. Then I'll give you a chance to change my mind about purple...if you're up for it."

Soul smiled toothily as she left the room. Oh, he was definitely up...and wondering if there were any more colors that he needed to help her reconsider.

CARRY

There was one thing Soul hated to do more than anything else. More than dishes, more than laundry; even more than cleaning the bathroom. And that thing was having to carry Maka.

It didn't happen a lot, but still more often than what he wanted to deal with. It was always after an intense battle, her body draped over his back, arms dangling over his shoulders while he clutched her thighs, something he dreamed of doing, but not like this. It was during these times that he was painfully aware of just how light she was, her bones more thin and delicate than you would think when you pictured Maka. It was as if she had poured all of her strength and energy into the fight (she had, actually. She always did), leaving him holding a thin, bloodied shell of his meister.

He didn't hate it because he thought her weak in any way. The very idea of a weak Maka was ridiculous. He hated it because he saw it as a sign of his own failing, that maybe, if he had been a better weapon, she would be able to walk away on her own two feet. Sometimes, he was so filled with disgust and self-loathing over the fact that he was helpless to do anything but carry her until she was able to fight again...She really should find a weapon that was strong enough for her.

Black*Star bounced over to where Maka sat leaning against a rock, blood trickling from a broken lip and dozens of other shallow cuts. None of the attacks had hit her deeply, but one blow that had snuck through their defenses had cracked several ribs.

"Damn, Maka! Looked like you got knocked about twenty yards away! Soul don't look much better, so lemme carry you to Stein." he offered, crouching next to her.

She batted him away, then stretched her arms out to Soul, who was stoically enduring the cuts on his back, deep purple and blue bruises already forming on his skin. He ignored his friend's knowing smirk as he backed away to let Soul scoop her up, having to hold her in his arms instead of on his back due to their combined injuries.

"You know, Black*Star could've carried you better. He could get you there faster, too." he said quietly as he walked, not looking down at her.

She tugged at the front of his shirt, demanding his attention. When their eyes met, she answered, "It has to be you, Soul. No one else can carry my weight like you do."

He snorted. "Like you weigh anything. I swear, when we get home, I'm gonna make you eat an entire cake."

Maka slapped his chest half-heartedly. "That's not what I meant! What I mean is...not just physically. No one else is strong enough to deal with me. Tsubaki is too nice, and would let me walk all over her. Black*Star would kill me, if I didn't kill him first. I guess what I'm trying to say is, you're the only one who has the strength to support me like I need, so I don't really like letting anyone else carry me when I'm weak."

Soul grinned, her words making her feel even lighter in his arms. Maybe he wasn't the most powerful weapon out there, but she had just told him he was the one she needed, the only one for her, and that's all that really mattered.

He would carry her, for just as long as she needed.

PANCAKE

While Soul and Maka usually alternated who cooked supper, breakfast was another matter. They had tried taking turns, but Soul was such a slug in the morning (more than usual), Maka ended up having to kick him out of bed, and then supervise him so he didn't fall asleep at the stove. Finally, she decided it would just be easier to do it herself, and Soul happily agreed, pleased he would have an extra thirty minutes burrowed in his blankets. This meant that Maka got to decide what to cook, which was fine, since she believed in a substantial breakfast, which Soul heartily agreed with. The only problem was that she hardly ever made pancakes, which was one of his absolute favorites.

So this morning, when he awoke to the sweet, seductive smell wafting from the kitchen, he had bolted out of bed before she had even had to call for him, practically skipping to his chair in nothing but a pair of blue and white plaid pajama pants. There was already a plate set out for him, and he frowned. Maka knew he could easily eat twice that amount. Shrugging, he figured that she had just set those out to start with, so he sat down, drenching the small stack with an obscene amount of syrup. Taking the first bite of golden, fluffy heaven, he closed his eyes, opening them a few moments later to catch her amused look.

"Wha oo ookin' ahth?" he asked around a mouthful of hotcake.

Maka grimaced at the sight, quickly averting her eyes as she sat down with her own plate. "Ugh, Soul, chew with your mouth closed! And you should slow down and enjoy them. We didn't have as much mix as I thought, so this is it."

Soul froze momentarily. The one day she decided to make his favorite, and there was barely enough for a taste! He grumbled a bit, but took her advice, trying to make it last as long as possible. As careful as he was, he still finished ahead of her, and stared jealously at her plate. She didn't notice, something she paid for when she got up to pour herself some juice. She turned back around to find her last two pancakes sliding down his throat, his look of satisfaction morphing into horror once he saw her watching him, realizing what he had just done.

He waited to be chopped senseless, but her next move, while aggressive, was not what he was expecting. Her face was thrust forcefully into his, her tongue darting out to lick the ring of syrup from around his mouth.

"You stole my pancakes." she stated.

He could only nod, eyes focused on her lips, scant inches from his.

"I wasn't done eating, and I'm still hungry. I think it's only fair that you take their place, right?"

Again, he nodded, praying desperately that this was going where he thought it was. He gave a relieved whimper in the back of his throat as she took his lower lip between her teeth, as if she was determined to get every last drop of her purloined pancakes and their topping.

"Hmm...it always amazes me how there are certain things you can't eat without getting them all over your face." she murmured.

"Only happens when I really enjoy my...meal." Soul replied suggestively, playing along with her.

She had straddled one of his thighs, her hand stroking him through the thin material of his pants. His groans were becoming more desperate as he bucked his hips, and much to his distress, she removed her hand. When she tugged at the waistband, he was helpless to resist raising himself up so she could pull them down to his knees, but he became apprehensive when she took the syrup bottle in hand before kneeling in front of him.

"Maka, ah, um, do you really think that's a good idea? As much as I like what you're doin', I don't think-"

He struggled to voice his concerns, knowing that the sticky fluid would be far from lubricating, and might actually wind up being quite painful.

"It's paybaaaack~" she sang, causing beads of sweat to pop out on his forehead. "Good grief Soul, just trust me."

She tipped the bottle, squeezing a small amount onto her fingers, then transferred it to the head of his cock. He shuddered a bit at the sensation, but quickly forgot his misgivings when she began to lap at him, her tongue swirling up the syrup before it had a chance to drip onto his shaft. She sucked on the head firmly, ensuring that all traces of the topping was removed, her hands working what didn't fit easily into her mouth. It wasn't long before Soul came, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly.

Panting, he watched her stand, but took her arm and yanked her to him before she could move away. His hand reached for the bottle as he pushed her onto the table.

His mouth stretched into a wide grin. "I could go for seconds myself."

PRIDE

Maka had many things to be proud of. She was bold, intelligent and courageous, one of the top meisters in her grade. But pride has a darker side, and that's what she was dealing with now. She and Soul had always bickered, that's just who they were. It had never, except for maybe during that one time with the stupid candles, had any real malice in it. You couldn't tell that from the fights they had been having lately though. They seemed to be getting worse and worse, and here, in the privacy of her own room, she could admit to herself that it had been her fault. She knew she wasn't the easiest person to deal with, but Soul had always managed better than anyone else, always seeming to know when to push her, and when to let her be. Which would be great, but she hadn't been giving him much of a choice, forcing the fight on him, never backing down, even though she knew he was right.

Standing, she heaved a deep sigh, grudgingly deciding she should go and try to make up with him, even though her temper was still a bit too warm for civilized discourse. She walked quietly to the living room, where he still sat after their most recent shouting match. When he looked up from where he had sat hunched over, forehead resting in his palms, she took a step back, releasing a small gasp.

His eyes were dull, as if all the fight had gone out of him. He waited without speaking, as if resigned to the inevitability of her next verbal attack. The way his body language expressed more than words just how done he was with this frightened her. Suddenly, the understanding of just how difficult she had been to live with hit her with a painful clarity. If she kept this up, she was running the very real risk of pushing him away. No one could keep up under the emotional barrage she had been pressing on him. No one should have to. The thought of losing her weapon, her friend, her lover, over something as foolish as her stubborn pride made her eyes well with tears, her throat closing up as she came to stand before him.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Maka, I really don't feel like going into this right now, so-"

"I'm sorry." Maka blurted, the words coming out in a rush, followed by a hiccuping sob that she tried unsuccessfully to swallow.

Soul blinked up at her, taking in the change in her demeanor for the first time. "What?" he asked carefully, afraid he had misheard her.

"I said I'm sorry! For this stupid fight, for my attitude lately, for the shitty way I've been treating you! I'm sorry, Soul."

He was quiet for so long, that she felt her heart begin to break, sure she had finally lost him for good. Her vision was blurry through tears, and she stumbled as she turned away, but two hands shot out to her hips, pulling her into his lap. She sat there stiffly, unsure of what to do.

"I forgive you."

His words were simple, but his tone was sincere, and her body relaxed as she cried into his shoulder, his arms circling her in a comforting manner.

"How can you say that? If you had any sense, you'd be running in the opposite direction to look for someone less troublesome." her voice was watery, and she felt bad for drenching him, but she couldn't bring herself to release the tight grip he had on the front of his shirt.

"Good thing I don't have any sense, then, isn't it?" he cracked, earning a shaky laugh. It had been days since he had joked with her, she realized, and she had missed his snark.

"But-"

"Yeah, you can be a handful to deal with, I'll give you that. But you more than make up for it once you get over whatever it is that sets you off. And you have the strength to say you're sorry. And mean it. How could I stay mad after that?"

He was letting her off easy, she knew, as they sat there and he stroked her hair. It was going to take more than just an apology to put them back to normal, but it was a start. She would do her best to make it up to him. After all, she had someone who was willing to stand by her not just through the happy times, the easy times, but someone who would stick through the rough patches as well, when no one would blame him for leaving. His loyalty was incredible, his love for her strong enough to weather the storm of her ever changing moods. He was everything she could ask for, and more.

And that was something that she could take pride in.

HUNGER

He had that look in his eyes again, the look that sent shivers dancing up and down her spine like fingers on piano keys. It was a familiar look with subtle variations that she had become adept at reading over the years. The first one was obvious, anyone could see it as he gazed at a meal set before him, eyes lighting up as he dug in. Then there were the times right before he swallowed a soul, the look of smug satisfaction after a hard battle washing over him as it slid down his throat. It also happened when he listened to a piece of music he particularly enjoyed, head tilted back in ecstasy as he seemed to absorb the music into his very being.

But this expression was darker, more intense, the red of his eyes deepening to a richer shade of red. The look of almost painful hunger he wore right before he consumed her, as if she was the very thing that kept him going, made her knees buckle and her breath hitch.

He loomed over her, pinning her down with his weight as he dipped his head to growl into the tender flesh of her skin, where she knew she would have small love bites come morning, his voice heavy with need and promise.

"I'm starving."


End file.
